


Brand Him

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, bottom!Dami, possessive Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4049992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick was never overly possessive, but there's something about see Damian in his colors, with his symbol plastered over his chest, that wakes up the animal in him. Something that Damian definitely <i>likes</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brand Him

**Author's Note:**

> Written because of [this lovely gift I was given on Twitter today](https://twitter.com/SharkPrinceRen/status/605079175951548417/photo/1), after tweeting that I really wanted to see Dami wearing a Nightwing shirt. I wanted to return the favor :3
> 
> Damian is about 19 or so here.

Dick grumbled, pressing his face into his pillow and turning away from the harsh light his window let in. His curtains had been torn down a week prior, in a little bit of a _rough mishap_ , and he had never bothered to replace them, or even hang up the torn ones.

He reached blindly around him for his sheet, pulling it up over his head, trying to find enough darkness to fall back into sleep. It might have worked, if he didn’t realize in doing so that the bed was empty next to him, that he was alone and sprawled out in the middle. He pulled the sheet back, pushing himself up and opening his eyes, lids still heavy, squinting because the room was just _too damn bright_.

“You sleep too late.”

Dick rolled onto his back, sitting against the pillows and looking across the room. Damian was leaning in his door frame, watching him in almost absolute silence, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. The moment he saw it Dick realized he could smell it through the apartment.

“What fun is a day off if I can’t sleep in?” Dick whispered, rubbing his eyes. “Now, come back to...” he trailed off, finally taking a long look at Damian, as relaxed as he was leaning there with his coffee. He was half naked, Dick couldn’t tell if he was wearing underwear _or not_ under his over sized shirt- but that was the distraction itself. Sliding off one tanned, scarred shoulder, black with that bright blue stylized V-shape along the chest, stripes extending down the sleeves-

_A goddamn Nightwing shirt_.

“Where did you-“ he started, stopped to lick his lips, teeth dragging along the lower one, unable to form full thoughts, sentences. Damian took a sip from his mug, watching with those startling eyes as Dick simply _gawked_ at him.

“Close your mouth, Grayson,” he finally said, “You look like a hormonal teenager.” Dick realized his jaw had gone slack and closed it, swallowing.

“Where did you get that?” he finally asked, and Damian straightened up, shrugging a shoulder.

“I don’t remember. Why? Is it bothersome?” Dick shook his head, thinking that was _definitely_ not the right word.

“C’mere,” Dick finally forced out, and Damian seemed to consider the request for a moment, like he might actually turn and leave Dick alone, before he made his way over, slowly. Dick glanced along his exposed legs, the muscle along his thighs, the way the hem of the shirt rode up along them when he took a step. When Damian reached the edge of the bed, Dick leaned closer, plucking his coffee from him and setting it on his nightstand, before he pressed his face against his belly, into the soft fabric of the shirt, his arms encircling him.

He heard Damian click his tongue, that typical _tt_ , but Dick ignored it, his hands rubbing along the teen’s lower back. He inhaled, smelled the cotton and Damian’s skin and the coffee still lingering in the air, before he finally heard,

“Grayson, what are you _doing_?”

Dick didn’t look up, nuzzled closer, his hands dipper down, over the curve of Damian’s ass, grabbing handfuls of cloth-covered flesh, feeling him exhale. Dick mouthed at his belly through his clothing, before finally leaning back, hands roaming to his hips, tugging Damian onto the bed. The younger man let him, let Dick tug him down to the mattress, so that he was sitting, and reach up to grasp his face, pulling him in for a kiss.

Typically, Damian fought and won for any and all control when it came to their kisses- knew how to drag his teeth along Dick’s lip, his tongue, to make him whine and shudder and give up. He wasn’t sure where the kid learned it, if he was just that easy to read, or if Damian was somehow _born with the knowledge_ , but whatever the cause he knew how to kiss Dick into an utter, undiluted mess.

Except for in this moment. Dick’s hands were holding his face steady, his tongue pressing between his lips, tracing the points of his teeth, along his own tongue. Dick was kissing him like he wanted to suck the very life from his lungs.

Dick tugged at his lip with his teeth, heard Damian give a little _huff_ , and released his face, hands going to his thighs, tracing up them. His thumbs rubbed along the inside of his thighs, one dragging over a recent scar, stopping to trace it for a moment as he continued to kiss him, until all he could hear was their breathing, the wet slid of lips, and then the rustle of the cotton shirt as Dick’s fingers pushed beneath it’s hem, towards the juncture of Damian’s thighs.

Dick broke away from his mouth as one hand pressed along the shape of his cock through his black briefs, palming him. Damian tipped his head back, exhaling, and Dick leaned down to kiss his exposed shoulder, tongue flicking against another scar- this one, old.

“I like you in this shirt,” Dick whispered, “Kinda like you’re mine.” He gripped him, rubbing Damian’s erection still, not missing the fact that he was already hard. Granted, Dick was too, still naked and tangled in the sheets. But he was far more interested in Damian’s reactions at the moment.

“Are you trying to say you _own me_ , Grayson?” Damian had lifted his head, and Dick smiled, glancing up at him.

“I think you’d like it.” Damian flashed a smirk, the points of his teeth, before he grabbed Dick by his biceps, pulling him onto him as he fell back into the sheets. Dick sprawled over him, shocked for a moment, as Damian pushed his hips up against Dick’s, rutting for a moment and causing Dick to moan.

“Convince me,” Damian taunted, pressing his mouth to Dick’s jawline. The older man shivered, before grabbing at Damian’s wrists, pushing them up above his head and pinning him. He pulled away from Damian’s mouth, nosing his chin up and kissing at his neck, sucking at his pulse point until he finally got a moan from the boy, who pushed his hips up into Dick’s again, grinding against him. Dick grinned, letting his teeth drag along flesh, to the center of Damian’s throat, where he sucked again, feeling blood rush just below the skin.

He slid between Damian’s legs as he continued the exploration of his neck, down to his one exposed shoulder, the scar- or what he could get at of it, as Damian’s arms were still folded, wrists above his head. Each slide rubbed Dick’s exposed erection against Damian’s clothed cock, had the younger man bucking up to try and get more friction, more _contact_.

“You’re ah-“ Damian’s speech broke, Dick nibbling along one red spot on his neck, already turning towards a deep purple. “Too slow, Grayson.”

Impatient, as always. Dick rather liked dragging it out, working Damian and himself up to a delirious point. His younger lover always seemed to want to get straight to the point.

Well, he could play along.

Dick pulled back, quickly, releasing Damian’s wrists and rolling him over, so he was on his belly. Damian began to push himself up with his arms, trying to look back at Dick, but the older man placed a hand between his shoulder blade, pushed him down, before shoving the shirt half way up his back and hooking his fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down over the swell of his ass. Damian lifted his hips, and Dick took the moment to pull them fully off, tossing them somewhere on the floor, before leaning down, kissing at the base of Damian’s spine. Damian seemed about to protest again, but Dick nipped at the skin, before grabbing his ass, parting the flesh and pressing his mouth against his hole before he could speak.

This time, he got a shocked sort of moan, felt Damian shifting, pushing back against him. Dick smiled to himself, kneading his ass as he licked, feeling muscles tense and relax along his thighs. Damian seemed torn between pushing back against Dick’s mouth, and grinding down into the sheets, trying to get some friction on his neglected cock, trapped by his body.

Dick dug blunt finger nails into his ass cheeks, pressing his tongue into Damian’s body with more ease then he expected. But then again, perhaps he had done quite a number on the kid the night before.

“Hnnn,” the strangled sound fell from Damian’s mouth, and Dick knew he was gritting his teeth now, trying to keep otherwise quiet, in control. Dick pulled back, leaning part way off the bed for his nightstand, fumbling around as his free hand rubbed along Damian’s lower back. When his fingers curled around the bottle of lube he leaned back, opened it and pouring some onto his palm, hands nearly shaking as it rubbed it over his fingers.

It didn’t matter that he had been up half the night prior fucking Damian. It didn’t matter that he’d gotten off enough times to damn near pass out after. He was still on edge, the urge in his gut churning to drive into Damian’s both, to pin him down and bite at every bit of skin he could. To growl _mine_ into every scar he found, and claim him. Brand him.

He pressed his fingers against Damian’s entrance, the thumb of his free hand pressing into one of the small dimple at his lower back. Damian pushed back then, before Dick could, forcing two of his fingers to slip into him. Dick’s lip twitched, a snarl almost there, his heart hammering in his chest as Damian worked back along his fingers, rocking his hips and moaning under his breath.

“You like fucking yourself like this?” Dick asked, his voice husky, and Damian’s quiet moan ended in an uncharacteristic whine.

“Grayson,” he breathed, “what are you-“

“Tell me.” He met Damian’s thrust, adding a third finger and pushing in as far as he could. Damian still felt relaxed from the prior night- that, or he was simply good at keeping calm while Dick worked him open. Dick wasn’t really in the mental state to care about which was the case. “Tell me you _like it_.”

Damian huffed out his breath, sucked on his tongue, and Dick curled his fingers, pressing against his prostate. The younger man jerked, pushing back against his hand, groaning and suddenly, “I like it. _I like it_.”

Dick grinned, leaning over him, still working his fingers, quickly now, liking the way it made Damian’s breath hitch. He nipped at his ear lobe, whispering, “Would you like it more if I fucked you, Dami?” Damian’s breath caught, and the moment Dick curled his fingers again rushed out in a groan. “Hmmm?”

“Y-yes,” he forced out, trying to swallow, to keep his vision from doubling. Dick’s teeth tugged at his ear lobe then.

“Say it.” Another curl, a moan, and Damian trembled.

“I-I want you to fuck me, Grayson.” Dick pushed his fingers in harder, Damian’s body jerking, before he pulled them out, patting the swell of Damian’s ass. He moved off him, grabbing the bottle of lube and pouring some onot his palm, before reaching down and finally stroking himself, sighing at the contact. Damian was shifting, pushing his knees up to raise his ass, trying to look back- moving as if he was going to roll over.

Dick reached down, grabbing his hip with one hand, his other holding the base of his cock as he thrust into him without warning. Damian gave a cry, hands gripping at the sheets, and Dick let his head fall back for a moment, mind reeling in how hot Damian was, how perfectly he felt around him. Didn’t matter that he’d fucked him, what, six hours prior? It felt like his first step into heaven every time.

He heard Damian curse, and rocked his hips once, twice, the curse turning to a low groan. The little gnawing in his gut that perhaps he’d been too rough was gone instantly, and he leaned over Damian, grabbing one of his shoulders as he thrust into him, fingers bunching in the shirt as it rode half way up his back still.

Dick squeezed his shoulder, using almost bruising force, heard Damian hiss, spreading his thighs wider so Dick could thrust easier, his cock aligning with his prostate. Dick knew the moment he hit it, felt Damian shake, the groan ripped from his throat perfectly _obscene_.

“You’re mine,” Dick huffed, wishing he could sink his teeth into the back of Damian’s neck. Wishing he could feel him writhing against him- but to do so would upset his rhythm, and frankly, he was rather happy with the fast, deep thing he had going here- it wasn’t like he usually fucked Damian. But then again, neither was the urge to tear at his skin, claw his name into his back.

Damian didn’t respond, shifting back against him, trying to reach back to grasp himself but unable to with each rock of Dick’s hips. He gave a frustrated huff, and Dick pulled out, flipping him onto his back and grabbing his thighs, dragging him closer to the edge of the bed and pressing his legs along his hips. Damian curled them around his waist as Dick thrust back into him, watched his back arch off the bed at the new angle.

“Like-that?” he breathed, and Damian nodded, sucked on his lower lip for a second before digging his teeth into it. Dick reached one hand down, feeling his body growing tight, ran his hand past Damian’s cock, along his abdomen, pushing at the shirt. His mark, all along Damian’s chest.

He pulled his hand back, reaching for Damian’s cock, only to be batted away. Damian took himself in hand instead, squeezing, arching again at the dual sensations. Dick groaned, knew Damian preferred to touch himself when he fucked him, and couldn’t complain in the slightest. He focused his hold instead on Damian’s thighs, keeping him steady as he thrust harder, so close that he swore he could feel his bones vibrating.

Damian clenched around him, once, and Dick nearly lost it, groaned as Damian squirmed around, thrusting up into his hand, then back down against his cock. “C’mon Dami,” Dick breathed, “I want you to _cum_.” Damian groaned, his breathing rapid, and Dick nearly growled. “You’re _mine_ ,” he hissed, “And I’m _telling_ you to cum.”

Damian cried out, louder then Dick expected, clenching around him as he came, painting his tan belly with pearly splashes. Dick was only a moment behind him, gasping, hips jerking as he filled Damian, pressing his fingers hard into his thighs.

When Damian grew relaxed, nearly limp, Dick released his hold on his thighs, pulling out. Damian exhaled as he did, that full feeling dissipating, and Dick crawled onto the bed, sprawling out among the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, his vision swimming, heard Damian shifting about next to him, the rustling of clothing. When he pressed up against Dick’s side, his shirt was gone, and he frowned.

“You took it off?” Damian clicked his tongue, frowning.

“I had planned on _wearing_ it. I’m attempting to keep it...clean, Grayson.” Dick nearly laughed at that, rolling onto his side and wrapping both his arms around Damian, squeezing him. The younger man squirmed, as if he didn’t enjoy it, but Dick knew he could shove him off easily. He never chose to.

“You okay?” he asked, and Damian nodded. “Okay. Sorry, I uh...I don’t know what came over me. Guess I just like you in my colors.”

Damian glanced up, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Perhaps next time I’ll simply wear your suit.” Dick groaned, flopping back onto his back and releasing Damian, who took his chance and crawled from the bed, standing and stretching, feeling a growing wetness between his thighs. “This is disgusting. I need to shower.”

“You say disgusting, I say hot as fuck,” Dick said, even as Damian walked towards the doorway. He pushed himself up, openly watching him go, grinning to himself because _damn if the kid didn’t have a nice ass_. Dick sighed and reached for Damian abandoned mug of coffee, taking a sip and then grimacing, remembering that when he drank coffee he drank it _black_. Now that, that was disgusting. “Why were you up so early anyway?” Dick called out as he fumbled around his room for a pair of sweatpants, slipping them on and leaning out of his bedroom door, spotting the bathroom door still open, the shower not on yet.

“Your obnoxious ringtone,” Damian called out, as he turned the water on. “It would not stop. I do not understand how you slept through it.”

Dick frowned. Ringtone? He looked around his room, grabbing a pair of jeans, deciding his phone wasn’t in there and tossing them aside. He found it in the next pair, unlocking the screen and feeling his stomach drop when he saw Bruce’s name multiple times.

_Oh, fuck_.

He stood up, raking a hand back through his hair, trying to think of what to say. He was sure he knew why Bruce was calling- probably trying to find Damian. Dick should have actually _asked_ what he had told Bruce when he showed up hours earlier, but well- he’d been a little distracted when Damian got no more then one foot in the door and was kissing him.

Probably, he hadn’t told him anything at all. Probably, he’d simply snuck out. Which he had done before. Too many times, to see Dick.

Dick’s thumb hovered over Bruce’s name, before finally clicking it, holding the ringing phone up to his ear. Something, something, some sort of story, couldn’t just say _sorry, he dropped by and we fucked all night so we missed your call_.

Last thing he needed was Bruce knowing about he and Damian.

Bruce picked up after only a few rings, no greeting, simply a, “Why the hell didn’t you pick up?”

“I was sleeping,” Dick started, trying not to sound nervous. “I just woke up. Don’t tell me the city is burning down.”

“Is Damian there?” Dick swallowed, kept his voice steady.

“Yeah, he’s in the shower. Showed up in the middle of the night. Crashed on the couch. You know, the usual. You piss him off?” Dick tried to play it off, pacing around his room, avoiding articles of clothing, stopping only to pick up Damian’s Nightwing shirt, to hold it against his bare chest.

Bruce exhaled, and Dick knew that, even if it was a bit of a low jab, it had worked.

“Actually, best not tell me,” Dick added, “I don’t wanna pick sides. You know he’s always welcome here, doesn’t bother me. How about once I’m presentable for the world, I get him some coffee before I return him to you? Give him a little time to breathe so the Manor isn’t a war zone?”

“If you don’t mind, I would appreciate that.”

“Hey anytime. I’ll have him back before he turns into a pumpkin or anything.” Dick ended the call before he could lose his cool, tossing his phone onto the bed, turning to see Damian standing in his doorway again, this time with nothing but a towel around his waist, his skin still wet. “Why didn’t you _tell me_ Bruce had called.”

He shrugged a shoulder, walking towards him, plucking his shirt from his hands and tossing it to the bed. “You didn’t give me the chance.”

“Yeah. Well...we’re just lucky he didn’t come looking for you himself or anything.” Damian clicked his tongue, rolling his pretty eyes.

“Has he _ever_ , Grayson? He trusts you with me.” Dick groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I need a shower. And probably some soul cleansing.” Damian raised an eyebrow, leaning in and kissing at Dick’s neck, softly, one hand running along his side. Dick relaxed into the touch, tilting his head so Damian could kiss him easier, before glancing down at the boy’s neck, running his thumb over one bruise. “And fuck, you need to cover those.”

“Why? I haven’t before.” Dick rolled his eyes, pulling himself away from Damian before he was tempted to drag him back to the bed again, heading for the bathroom.

“Get dressed,” he called behind him. “We’re getting coffee when I’m done.”

“I _made_ coffee, Grayson.”

“You made tar. We’re getting _real coffee_.” Damian rolled his eyes, knowing that by _real coffee_ Dick meant something that was cold, had enough sugar to rot his teeth, and tasted more like dessert then anything else.

Still, he wasn’t going to complain, not when the morning had gone so well thus far. Not when the reaction he’d gotten from Dick when he’d worn the Nightwing shirt had been exactly what he wanted. He only hoped he could pull some _interesting_ reactions from him while they were out in public.

Damian smiled to himself, sure to catalog every way Dick looked at him for the rest of the day. He did, after all, have a whole drawer full of various Nightwing clothing memorabilia now. And knowing that the shirt had worked so well, he was rather eager to see how Dick might react if he was simply _covered_ in his brand.

**Author's Note:**

> I think Dami needs some underwear with the Nightwing symbol right on his ass next. Probably. Definitely.
> 
> Agree? Disagree? Other ideas? Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/).


End file.
